Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Don't mock. Too hard.

A friend invited me over to an essential oils class/party thing yesterday.

Normally, I'm really skeptical about any kind of doctor conspiracy!/pharmaceuticals are out to get us! kinds of products, but I'll tell you what. When I used to get migraines, sometimes the only thing that was effective was this peppermint oil I bought for a bazillion dollars an ounce and rubbed on my temples and under my nose. I still don't think that all the doctors have a conspiracy going, and I still think that pharmaceutical companies that spend billions of dollars on failed medicines have to make up for that research by charging lots of money for the few successes they do have.

But some stuff? I think some good stuff really is discounted just because it's for hippies and Europeans.

So I went with an open mind. And not only did I like this stuff; I loved it. I tried some sore muscle cream on my poor aching legs (er, I went in the bathroom for this). Pain nearly gone in less than five seconds. It was amazing.

I only spent $10, but I would have loved to have bought one of the kits. They're too expensive, unfortunately, but I think I'm going to save up for one.Meeting new friends outside of school or work or church is very awkward for me. I sometimes feel like my brain operates on a completely different set of rules than the rest of the world sometimes, so I'm constantly second-guessing myself. Am I too exuberant? Too flippant? Too sarcastic? Too helpful? Too people-pleasing?

This is really fun at the park. I constantly feel like I'm being judged, even when I know I'm not, and this is not helped by the fact that no one is better at judgy than judgy moms. Side note: if you say "judge" enough, it starts to sound fake. So until very recently, I haven't said "hi" or made small talk or anything with other women who are there at the playground with their kids.

And then a few weeks ago, something in my brain broke, and I was like, "This is the dumbest thing ever. Just say hi, you insecure moron." And now I'm making new friends left and right. Not let's-braid-each-others'-hairs kinds of friends, but people who I can smile and wave at without assuming they're thinking, "Ugh, why does SHE keep talking to me?" And even if I do get that vibe from them, I don't care. It's amazing. Thank you, Lord.

I still have a whole heap of Crazy stashed in a back closet of my brain--Crazy I wasn't even aware I had until after Grace was born, but it was there, lurking, all along. But it seems like lately, they're being lifted off me, one by one. And maybe someday I'll be able to talk on the phone without breaking out the anti-nausea medicine. And do you know what that means? This means I will be calling all of you people who have kindly given me your number over the years. MWAHAHAH.

(Don't hold your breath; it will probably be 2020 before I get to that point.)